


Tell Me No Lies

by chase_acow



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M, Truth Serum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-22
Updated: 2006-06-22
Packaged: 2017-10-17 10:59:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/176164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chase_acow/pseuds/chase_acow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel can ask him anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me No Lies

  
"So how are you feeling, Colonel?" Doctor Lam asked flicking her hair out of her eyes as she finished the regular check-up after SG-1’s return from off world. Cameron had been held up by Landry, was the last one to the infirmary, and was the only one left. At moments like this, the infirmary was a quiet pool against the raging river of the SGC, and Cameron felt relaxed and at ease.

"Tired but good," Cameron said pulling his t-shirt back over his head. It had been an easy mission to a world where the natives were friendly and actually interested in sharing intel. Jackson in a bandanna and zero sign of Ori activity had made his day just that much better. "Bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to get laid tonight."

The silence that followed that statement was full of shock and embarrassment as Dr. Lam stared at him and he rapidly started to turn red. "I'm so sorry," Cameron said hurriedly, holding up his hands, and mentally berating himself for such a gross slip. "I guess I just wasn't paying much attention to what was coming out of my mouth."

Dr Lam quirked her smile as she obviously enjoyed Cameron’s extreme discomfort; for a doctor and a lady, she never minded seeing the military stick their foot in. “It’s all right, Mitchell,” she said graciously, hooking her stethoscope around her neck and picking up his chart. “Just do me a favor and try not to over-share in the future.”

“Yes ma’am,” Cameron said hurriedly, hopping off the bed and shrugging into his jacket as he made his escape. He really hadn’t thought about what he was saying, it had just popped out like air from a balloon. It was just a good thing that Daniel hadn’t been there in the infirmary with him. That man had absolutely _no_ poker face.

Cameron smiled at that thought as he emerged out into the hallway. Daniel was so easy to read, his expressions and gestures speaking just as loudly as the words dropping out of his mouth. Not that Daniel had any trouble expressing his wants and needs, every little thought that flickered through his eyes, really. It was something that Cameron still couldn’t do and an ability that Cameron was just a little jealous of. Sure, Cameron could pop off just as well as any smart-alecky teenager, but when it came to really talking, he still came up short.

It just wasn’t proper back on his grandmother’s farm, a guideline becoming the rule, especially after he grew into adolescence. Even though the Air Force had gone a long way toward working the kinks out, he still remembered the lessons he’d learned. A good southerner was polite, and that meant not speaking much, but when necessary talking _real soft_ and _real slow_. And they never asked for anything, especially things that might not be proper, because a good southerner didn’t think things like that.

Cameron thought sometimes that he was like two completely different people. One visited his family‘s farm and his pet cow Co-Co, had an ill-advised relationship with Daniel and listened to old country music. The other talked loudly, bragging and boasting most often, an Air Force Colonel to the core kicking ass and taking names. Most of the time he listened to his grandmother, who had the capacity to be scarier then any Goa’uld.

Soft and slow was what his grandmother taught him, and it worked like a charm on his old girlfriends’ parents, authority figures, and other people who needed charming, but it seemed like it went right over Daniel’s head. Mr. I-Know-Over-Two-Dozen-Languages obviously didn’t speak the American South fluently. Cameron thought it was a lot like speaking through a brick wall to someone that was sure that they understood you anyway.

Nodding a hello to some of the airmen he passed in the hall, Cameron headed toward the mess for a snack before he started in on his growing stack of paperwork. None of the blue jello though, not after the last fiasco with blue handprints all over his requisition forms. All the yelling he’d had to endure from the crotchety supply master had been worth it for the satisfied look on Daniel’s face, but it wasn‘t something he was eager to experience again. Ever.

Cameron almost ducked back out of the mess as soon as he saw that Landry had one of the technicians cornered on the other side of the room, but the little fink started babbling and pointing at him the second he cleared the doorway. Landry turned and smiled leaving the techie to slump against the counter for a moment before he turned tail and ran out the back. Cameron wished he could master the same disappearing act, but he was stuck now. Perks of command, his ass.

“Hello again, General,” Cameron greeted Landry trying very hard to keep the huff out of his breath and not to fidget. Landry was one of the best Generals that Mitchell had ever served under, but the SGC was a rule onto itself and the interpersonal boundaries often times were skewed. It wasn’t that he didn’t want personal relationships with his co-workers, but sometimes he missed the ability to stick his head in the sand and sing Jim Croce songs loudly and off key until it was safe to emerge again.

The smile that split Landry’s face always put Cameron on edge, and today was no different when all he really wanted was do his work with less then five paper cuts, catch a shower and then get the hell out of Dodge. There was a six-pack of beer and a taped football game with his name on it, with halftime festivities being provided by his favorite linguistic genius. SG-1 never got the easy way out of these situations.

“Mitchell, just the man I wanted to see! I’m seeing a very special lady tonight, and I just bought this new cologne, what do you think of it?” Landry asked waving his tie in the general direction of Cameron’s nose. The smell was the most god-awful thing that Cameron had smelled in recent memory, and he’d been to a lot of planets where bathing was not held in such high regard as it was on Earth.

Cameron opened his mouth to tell Landry that it was great and good luck on his date …

Cameron groaned and beat his head against the cool metal hoping again that maybe his memories would give out before the table did. Brain damage was a small price to pay for the ability to forget the last several hours. Although really, the isolation rooms weren’t all that bad to stay in, bed, toilet, and table, and at the moment, it was his only way to make it through the next couple of hours with any of his privacy still intact. His stomach rolled every time he remembered the words that spilled unbidden from his mouth, he’d already thrown up twice.

It was just a good thing that members of the SGC were given extra leeway when it came to career suicide than other members of the military. True, there were extenuating circumstances, but the snickers that had followed Landry and Cameron all the way to the infirmary were not something that every General could have ignored. Cameron also managed to insult three nurses, two technicians and admit that he occasionally listened to the Milkshake song during his workouts before he’d clamped his mouth shut and refused to say another word.

He jerked up as he heard the click of the door opening, but slumped down again as Daniel slipped in and shut the door firmly behind him, making sure that the observational window was also covered. The look on General Landry’s face when Cameron had told him what he thought about his cologne was going to stay in Cameron’s nightmares for eternity, and he didn‘t relish turning himself loose with anyone else.

“So you want the good news or the bad news first?” Daniel asked in lieu of a greeting, pulling out the chair across from Cameron and turning it so that he could sit down backward. He wore a black tee-shirt loose from his green pants, and looked freshly showered. Cameron loved to stroke his fingers through Daniel’s soft hair; he’d accidentally done it through a whole movie before he looked down and saw that Daniel had fallen asleep from his ministrations.

When it became obvious that Cameron couldn’t try to speak without lying, they’d sent the rest of SG-1 back through the ‘gate to see if they could find out the cause for whatever was affecting Cameron. And it was only he that was affected, at least Cameron hoped so, because the alternative was that Sam cheated on every test since grade school, Teal’c had a secret shrine set up to MacGyver, and Daniel had unfulfilled fantasies about the Asgard. Actually, he wasn’t too sure about Teal’c, the man had a serious obsession with duct tape.

“Hit me with the bad stuff, Jackson” Cameron mumbled into his folded arms, knowing that his immediate existence couldn’t get much worse.

Daniel rested a hand on Cameron’s head, and fingered down to rub at the top of Cameron’s neck, “There’s nothing we can do to speed up the process to get the drugs out of your system. Whatever they gave you to make sure that you couldn’t lie through the negotiations will take another twelve to fourteen hours to finish influencing you.”

“And the good news?” Cameron asked, sighing. There was one hope down the drain, but at least now they knew that the effects weren’t going to be permanent, which had been one worry. No matter what his Granny used to say, it was an impossible task to get through modern day life without the little lies to smooth things over.

“Well, other then that Landry changed his cologne, the good news is that instead of the infirmary, it’s just you and me in this room until it’s over,” Daniel said rising and walking around the table, putting both hands on Cameron’s shoulders, massaging into the tense muscles. “No one will come in, and the cameras have been turned off to protect your privacy.”

Rolling his shoulders, Cameron let out a small groan of pleasure, “You can never stop doing that.”

“Okay,” Daniel agreed easily, which should have been Cameron’s first clue that the other shoe was about to drop. Daniel leaned over to breathe in his lover’s ear, causing Cameron to lean back into Daniel’s solid and warm weight. “What else do you want?”

Cameron was up and across the room in a heartbeat, his back to the wall and a scowl on his face. Fear boiled up through his stomach at the thought of everything that he could let out unintentionally, “That’s not fair, Daniel. I don’t have a choice here.”

Daniel shrugged and hopped up to sit on the table, unperturbed and still amazingly confident, “I don’t want your deepest, darkest secrets. I don’t want to talk about feelings, humiliations, lost chances, or should-have-beens. I want to know what you want me to do; what you want to do to me.” He slipped off the table and moved to Cameron, putting both hands up on Cameron’s chest. “C’mon Cam, it’s just me here, and I‘m giving you a ‘Get out of Jail Free‘ card. I want to make you happy.”

“You do make me happy,” Cameron hedged, fighting the urge to put his hands on Daniel’s waist, knowing that the battle would then be over before it had a chance to start. He could never resist Daniel’s onslaught, which meant that he spent a lot of time watching the History Channel and making meals with dishes that he couldn’t even pronounce.

“But I could make you happier,” Daniel prompted his voice low and husky, reminding Cameron of smoke and scotch. Daniel blinked at him, and Cameron realized there weren’t any glasses separating him from Daniel’s clear expressive eyes. Lowering his head, Daniel kissed along Cameron’s neck, dragging his mouth from one tendon to the next until he was at the tender skin just under Cameron‘s ear. “Come on, Cam. Talk dirty to me.”

A shudder passed through Cameron’s body as his arms came up to crush Daniel to him, connecting them from chest to thigh. It was easy work to walk them over to fall on the bottom bunk of the small bed that sat in the corner of the room, and even easier still, to open his mouth and let all the words that he had wanted so desperately to say out into the open.


End file.
